


Your Soulmate Doesn't Need a Soul

by Interverse



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Other, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 08:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18312401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interverse/pseuds/Interverse
Summary: Comic, Stretch, Red, and Slim have finally found love, after all these years.So... why are their brothers so disappointed in them? Shouldn't they be happy?





	1. Denial

His entire life, Comic had felt… empty, and he knew the feeling was mutual among his friends. Well, some of them, at least. Blue and Rus had been together for over a year, while Black and Edge’s relationship was just about to hit six months. But him, Red, Stretch, and Slim were as single as could be. He could tell that the two couples in the group weren’t going to split any time soon. They were going to end up married someday, and he was happy for them, he really was, but… he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous.

 

Again, this was a shared consensus among him and the three other singles in the house that the eight of them shared. This arrangement had been going on for around three years, where the Swap, Fell, and Swapfell bros had moved to Undertale to live with Comic and his brother. It was great at times, but at others… not so much. He was forced to constantly see the couples being all snuggly, while he was left with nothing more than wistful daydreams to accompany him in the romance department. Unfortunately, he had also been treated to some… interesting noises every now and again. Even more unfortunately, apparently Blue shared his brother’s tendency for loudness, and this carried over into a few certain aspects of life.

 

Again, he was happy for the four of them that had found love, but the sadness at his own loneliness built up over the years. Recently, however, this had changed. And not only for him either, but Red, Stretch, and Slim as well. In fact, it happened on the same day for all of them.

 

While their more energetic brothers were out, the four of them were participating in a mass fridge raid, digging out all of the leftovers they could find and slathering them in their favorite condiments. Red produced a wide variety of alcohol for them to have alongside their little snack, while Stretch and Slim collaborated to provide everyone with a gratuitous amount of smokable substances. Needless to say, they all ended up royally drunk and royally stoned, so when they all collapsed onto the couch and chairs in the living room, things got weird. One moment they were talking about dicks and sticking them in certain unconventional places - namely blenders and eyesockets - then they were contemplating the meaning of life and the inner workings of the multiverse.

 

“Wait holy shit-” Red wheezed after choking out some combination between a burp and a hiccup, “What if there are multiple  _multiverses_??”

 

Stretch and Slim glanced at each other, jaws slack and eyes stretched wide, while Comic only rubbed at an eyesocket. “Ugh, this is… I can’t handle this, man. It’s…” he squinted, trying to think of something, “It’s so confusing it’s humerus!”

 

Despite that not only being very poorly executed, but also painfully overused, Slim and Red snickered while Stretch let out a single, loud bark of laughter, raising his half empty bottle of honey to his mouth. His aim was off, and his grip must have been a little harsher than it needed to be, because a moment later, the Papyrus was left with thick globs of honey running down his chin and plopping down onto his offensively orange sweatshirt.

 

“Dammit,” he sighed, though it didn’t appear that he minded all that much. He squinted, then laughed.

 

“What?” Slim questioned.

 

“Pff, what if we like, dated our condiments?” Stretch snorted.

 

Red stared sadly at the bottle of mustard in his hand, an action soon mimicked by Slim and Comic, except with barbeque sauce and ketchup in turn. Stretch chuckled dryly for a few more moments, but soon sighed heavily and looked down at his honey.

 

“That… might not be such be such a bad idea,” Slim whimpered.

 

They proceeded to drift off into a troubled sleep, and when they awoke, disgustingly hungover and in a lot of pain, they laughed the previous night off, but Comic could tell that what Stretch had said stuck with all of them. The next night, when his headache had been partially conquered, Comic took a bottle of ketchup into his room with him, and held it against his chest. His Soul pulsed within his sternum, a bright blush spreading across his face at the thought of the ketchup being so close to the essence of his being. The closeness sent little shocks of adrenaline through his body, and soon he was shivering atop his mattress, fat tears streaming from his sockets as a gargantuan smile practically split his face in half. He’d never felt something like this… such a  _connection_. No words were needed. He knew he was loved, and that was something invaluable to him. He didn’t care anymore at that point. His ketchup was an inanimate object, yes, but he was in love and wouldn’t let the others judge him. It had been a joke, sure, but in the face of what he was feeling now? That wasn’t worth jack shit.

 

The next morning, the four of them reunited, and Comic glanced up shyly at the others, but from the look in their eyes, he knew that they understood. They all loosened their embrace around their own ribcages, revealing the bottles of their favorite condiments that they had been holding there. They sat, and talked about it. Turns out, they had all had very similar experiences, and they knew, without a single shred of doubt, that this was meant to be.

 

They spent that day celebrating and getting to know their new lovers, and when all of their brothers returned from their trip that evening, they sat them down, fizzling with excitement.

 

“What’s the occasion?” Blue questioned with a giggle.

 

“Yeah,” Black added, “It’s pretty obvious you four are about to lose it.”

 

The condiment lovers shyly revealed their new significant others from where they had been tucked away under arms or in pockets.

 

Edge shot them an unimpressed look. “Really? You got more of your bullshit condiments?  _That’s_ what this is about?”

 

“N-No,” Red quietly protested, hurt evident in his voice.

 

Nobody said anything, confusion hanging over all of them like a thick fog, so Comic inhaled sharply and took it upon himself to progress the conversation. “All four of us… we’re uh... not single anymore.”

 

Rus gasped, eyelights flashing with happiness. “Really?? Did you finally ask Stretch out, Sans?”

 

Comic nearly choked on his next breath. Yes, it was true that he used to have a little crush back when their housemates first moved in, but it died quickly enough. “No,” he stated firmly.

 

Rus raised a browbone. “Oh? Is it Red, then? Slim? Someone else?”

 

All four of the newly claimed skeletons violently shook their heads, then held out the bottles in their hands.

 

“What,” Black stated flatly.

 

“W-We’re… u-uhm… dating our favorite condiments now,” Slim murmured, a dark purple blush igniting across his cheekbones and nasal ridge.

 

Blue and Rus laughed while Black and Edge let out gruff little chuckles. “Ha, good one.” Blue sighed, glancing affectionately at his brother. “Another prank, Papy?”

 

Stretch was silent in response to his brother’s query, as were all of them.

 

Soon, four faces fell, bones draining of their magic and leaving the monsters they belonged to looking ashen. Then, the expressions shifted into ones of disgust, disappointment, and disbelief. The silence was so suffocating that Comic was beginning to have legitimate trouble breathing, but he was interrupted when Edge stood stiffly from the couch. “No,” he stated flatly.

 

“H-Huh?” Red squeaked.

 

“You are not in a fucking  _relationship_ with  _mustard_. You’re just… not,” Edge growled. Black stood next, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and glaring at Slim, making his agreement with Edge’s statement more than evident. The two of them marched from the house, slamming the door behind them and earning visible flinches from Red and Slim.

 

Blue and Rus stood next, taking deep, shuddering breaths and then staring tiredly at their brothers, looking as if they had aged a hundred years. “Sans, you need to think about this. You... you aren’t with your ketchup. I'm sorry, but it can’t love you back,” Rus whispered hoarsely.

 

Blue glanced mournfully at Stretch, then followed his partner out of the house, no doubt planning to catch up with Edge and Black. Red was the first to break, an ugly, broken sob falling out from between his teeth. He scurried up the stairs and shut himself in his room, Slim right on his heels. At first, Comic didn’t know how he should react. He stared down at his ketchup, and didn’t feel anything. He looked up and found that Stretch had left as well, and with the solitude, the emotions hit him.

 

Grief, betrayal, hurt, and  _fear_ coalesced into a solid mass in his throat, rendering him silent even as tears were waterfalling down his cheeks. He looked down at his ketchup again, cornflower blue tears plonking down onto the bottle as he gently caressed the smooth plastic of his partner’s being. He slowly lowered himself down until he was laying on his side on the couch, clutching his ketchup tightly in his trembling hands. As he lay there, silent sobs rattling his ribcage, only one thing was certain. 

 

His ketchup was sticking by his side, no matter now strongly his brother or anyone else disapproved of it.


	2. Anger

Stretch had a bad day. A very bad day. He probably wouldn’t have been able to make it through it at all if not for the honey by his side. He shivered at the memories of the previous night, when he had caressed the curves of the bottle with long, trembling fingers and then whispered his fears and confessed his mistakes to the condiment. He’d felt so elated afterwards, and he knew that feeling could never be replicated in any other way. He though that Blue, always so kind and always so supportive, would be happy. He’d… found his home with someone, but Blue seemed insistent to evict him from it. In order to save himself from a complete breakdown, Stretch reasoned with himself. Blue had just been surprised, that was all. Once he got the chance to talk to him, his brother would realize that he was truly meant to be with his honey.

 

So, when Blue and the other three that had left them came back the next day, he dashed up to his brother, but he didn’t get a single word out before the smoldering rage in the Sans’ cyan eyelights seized him by his Soul and froze him on the spot. He’d never seen this before. Blue got angry sometimes, as every monster did, but he looked so… hateful. Looking at Rus, Edge, and Black, he found similar expressions on their faces, but it didn’t hit him as hard as seeing his kind hearted little brother so enraged.

 

“B-Bro-” he finally managed to choke out after looking back to his brother, but Blue held up a hand in a gesture for him to be quiet.

 

“Papyrus,” Blue growled, his voice low and void of emotion, “Gather the others. We need to talk.”

 

Stretch fled, fighting back tears and doing as instructed. Comic looked horrified at the news, while Red and Slim appeared to already be in the middle of an anxiety attack by the time they were all sat in the living room.

 

Rus took a breath to speak, but Edge interrupted him. “You four are  _pathetic_ ,” he snarled, sanguine eyelights ablaze with revulsion and abhorrence towards the monsters he was addressing.

 

Rus and Blue looked conflicted at the loathing behind the words, but they snapped a moment later, and all hell broke loose.

 

“Sans, how can you look me in the face and tell me you’re romantically involved with a fucking condiment?! That’s so  _disgusting_ \- how-?!” Rus’ face was flushed a bright scarlet as he screamed at Comic, but the Sans only sat there apathetically. Stretch could see the raging storm of emotions in his eyelights, though.

 

His joints locked up and his Soul stuttered when Blue joined in. “Papyrus-! Everything I’ve done for you-! I’ve fed you, comforted you, encouraged you and helped you survive the worst of your days! Does that mean  _nothing_ to you? Every time I told you I loved you, promised you things would turn out alright, and you turn right around and throw it in the trash? Do you even know how  _obnoxious_ that is? How  _sickening_? Am I that expendable to you? A piece of  _garbage_ to trample with this deranged shit?!”

 

Stretch's tears spilled over. He closed his eyes, and willed himself to fall through the floor, crumble into dust…  _anything_ to escape this. But his wishes were not granted, and Edge’s enraged voice invaded his skull.

 

“ _Sans_!” he spat, the venom in his voice making Stretch flinch despite the words not being directed at him. “You’re fucking  _worthless_!  _Weak_!  _Vile_! We’d all be better off with you gone! You’ve never done anything but fuck things up and make everyone’s lives way more fucking hard than they have to be!” Stretch could hear Red’s quiet, muffled sobs, but Edge continued. “You’re  _nauseating_!  _Shameful_! You deserve every scar you have! Why don’t you go and give yourself more, you fucking piece of shit!”

 

Red ran up the stairs and into his room, and Stretch couldn’t help but think with a jolt of panic that he was certainly going to be following his brother’s advice. He heard three more sets of footsteps stomp up after him, and two doors slam. Once he finally gained the courage to look up, he saw that Black was the only one left in the room with him, Slim, and Comic.

 

He hadn’t said a single word, but fat, plum-toned tears were rolling down Slim’s cheeks, and Stretch could understand why. Black looked… so disappointed. It was arguably worse than the rage, because it held a certain honesty behind it, and was harder to explain away as an unjust outburst. The Sans finally bared his teeth, scornfully glaring at his brother. “Pity,” he hissed, “I was just starting to believe in you.”

 

Slim broke down as Black ascended the stairs, choked sobs and desperate gasps coming from from where he had buried his face in his hands. Comic was next, sobbing weakly and allowing his tears to fall without attempting to stop them.

 

Stretch tried to hold it in, but a mournful wail and a fresh wave of tears escaped him a moment later. He truly didn’t know what to do.


	3. Bargaining

To coax himself away from the brink of madness, Red focused on the experiences with his mustard he’d had a few nights prior. What Stretch had said really set him thinking, so he had nervously sat upon his bed and stared at the bottle of his favorite condiment that he’d brought into the room with him. He’d expected to feel like an idiot, but… he hadn’t. Sitting there with the mustard, he felt happy, and complete. His tongue suddenly dry in his mouth, he had taken a shuddering breath and took the leap. He’d shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders, then pulled his sweater over his head. He sat there, face burning as he exposed his scarred ribs to the the mustard. He never let  _anyone_ see his scars. But… this felt right.

 

And that was when he knew.

 

But with how his brother had reacted, and how he was now bandaging the new cuts in his bones, made by him at the same monster’s request? The mustard would have to put in a lot of work to support him, if they were to make things work. He held it against his chest now, curled up in a defeated little ball on his bed.

 

He let out a little yelp when a soft knock sounded at his door. He hesitated, afraid it might be his brother, but struggled to his feet when a voice confirmed that it wasn’t. He trudged to the door, and slowly opened it just enough to peer out. “Hey,” Slim murmured tiredly. Red could see that his friend's normally rich purple eyelights were now dull, and impressive dark circles resided under his sockets. He probably looked the same way.

 

“Hey,” he mumbled in response.

 

“The uh… the bros want us in the living room to talk.”

 

Panic slammed through Red’s Soul. He was not in the mood to be screamed at and degraded again. Things had gotten so much  _better_ since they’d moved here, so this was like living through a violent flashback, and he didn’t like it one bit. But disobeying would only make everything worse, wouldn’t it?

 

A lump in his throat, Red opened his door the rest of the way, then jumped when a large hand gently gripped his shoulder. He looked up at the other skeleton, swallowing heavily. For all of a few weeks, months ago, they had been a couple. Drunk, they’d had one fumbling kiss, and then held hands loosely whenever they were alone together. They never made things official, not with words, anyway, and eventually broke it off, both agreeing that it wasn’t really working out. But now Red wasn’t so sure. He liked Slim. He was kind, and they understood each other. If they’d stayed together… their brothers would probably be happy for them. His eyelights grew hazy at the thought of it. Where would their relationship have progressed to by this point? Would they have been happy? Would they have ended up married with a bunch of kids or some shit? It would be so much easier-

 

“I wish things could have worked, too.”

 

Red blinked, clearing his vision and looking to Slim again. “Heh. You can read me that well, huh?”

 

Slim chuckled gruffly. “Well, we are both Fell Sans archetypes. We think the same way a lot of the time.”

 

Red felt tears of sadness and frustration prick at the back of his sockets. “ _Exactly_. So things should have worked.”

 

Slim squeezed his shoulder, smiling sadly. “I know. But… have you ever considered why they didn’t?”

 

Red huffed. “Cause I suck ass and am incapable of functioning in any sort of relationship?”

 

“No,” Slim sighed. “I always told myself that it was because there was someone else out there for us. You know, a Soulmate.”

 

Red’s sockets stretched wide. “You mean…” he glanced back at the bottle of mustard on his bed, “Our condiments?”

 

Slim nodded, finally retracting his hand from the other skeleton’s shoulder. “Yeah, don’t you think?”

 

Red swallowed. “But… they don’t even  _have_  Souls.”

 

Slim grimaced. “I know they don’t... but does that really matter? They make us happy. They fulfill us.”

 

Red closed his eyes. “They do.”

 

“So shouldn’t we do whatever we need to to stay with them?”

 

Red let out a long breath. “We should.”

 

With that, they descended the stairs, and joined a very nervous looking Comic and Stretch. Their brothers were sitting across from them, stiff smiles stretched across their faces. Silence was all that filled the room for several agonizingly long moments, until their brothers collectively let out long sighs and deflated.

 

“First of all, we wanted to apologize,” Blue murmured.

 

“For everything we said,” Rus continued, glancing mournfully at his brother.

 

Red braced himself, but to his shock, Edge didn’t yell at him again. “Me too, Sans. I shouldn’t have… reverted back to my old ways.” Red was shocked to see actual guilt glimmering in his brother’s eyelights. “And for the record,” Edge added, “I especially didn’t mean it about giving yourself more scars. Please, don’t… y-you’ve been clean for so long…” He looked down into his lap, wringing his hands together.

 

“Thanks, but… it’s a bit late for that, bro,” Red croaked. It still felt strange to address his brother as anything other than  _Papyrus_  or  _Boss_  without getting smacked upside the face.

 

Edge swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry,” he repeated in a whisper.

 

Black was next. He got up from the couch, then walked over to Slim. He leaned down over him, and Red could see him tense, but then relax when Black gently kissed his forehead. The Sans murmured something once he had pulled away, and Red couldn’t hear what it was, but from the look on Slim’s face, it must have been good.

 

When everyone had settled back into their spots, Rus took a sharp breath. “But all of that said,” he sighed softly, “We are still concerned.”

 

Red felt his Soul sink. He knew there was a catch.

 

“We care about you, all four of you,” Blue said, voice pleading. “And your mental health needs to be put above all else.”

 

Edge nodded. “So, we want to offer you guys something.”

 

“We’ll all find really good counselors for you guys,” Black proposed, “And you’ll be excused from all chores and household responsibilities until you’re better.”

 

Anger and hurt struck Red in the chest. They thought that the love they had found was a fucking side effect of some sort of mental breakdown? He was about to defend himself and his friends, but Stretch beat him to it.

 

“No.”

 

Their brothers blinked. “What?” Blue and Rus squeaked in unison.

 

“We said no,” Comic growled, voice firm and holding a confidence Red didn’t think he himself could have mustered. “We’re not in a bad place. We’re happy. You can’t bribe us to abandon the mon-” He trailed off. “The uh,  _ones_ that we love.”

 

Red cringed at the slip up, but the statement seemed to get the point across. Their brothers went silent again, until Black clenched his fists in desperation. “We’ll… we’ll even let you skip work! We’ll take double shifts so you can stay home and nap all day!  _Please-_!”

 

“No,” Slim growled.

 

“Yeah,” Red managed to add, happy when his voice didn’t sound meek. “Love isn’t something you can get us to pawn off.”

 

Stretch stood suddenly. “It’s insulting.”

 

Comic joined him. “It really is.”

 

Slim was on his feet next. “So, we’re leaving.”

 

“What?” Edge spluttered, whipping his head to look at Slim.

 

While the idea was sprung on all of them, Stretch quickly hopped onto it while Red rose to his feet as well. “We’re leaving. You know, going out for the night. You can stay here, and think things through summore. You clearly need more time.”

 

“Yeah,” Comic sneered.

 

Red didn’t say anything, but he gladly followed his friends out of the front door.

 

Their brothers wanted a fight? They were getting one.


	4. Depression

It ended up being a really fun time. They hadn’t had time to grab their new significant others before they had stormed out of the house, so they instead stopped by the store to pick up a new bottle of their favorite condiments.

 

That was when it hit Slim. “Wait! Is this cheating?” So far, he’d only been coddling a sole bottle of barbeque sauce. He still got shivers up and down his spine at the memories of how he held them in his bed that first night, and felt the bottle’s returned embrace more strongly than from any other monster who'd actually had arms to wrap around him.

 

The other three had turned to look at him after that remark, eyes stretched wide. Comic had come to the conclusion that no, this wasn’t cheating. They hadn’t fallen in love with a single bottle of their condiments, they had fallen for them in every form they took. So, they proceeded to make their purchases, and had the wildest night they had in a long time. Slim tried not to get too wasted, because someone needed to look after these whack job friends he had, right? Upon finally arriving home, Slim collapsed into his bed, kissing the now empty bottle of barbeque sauce before falling into some of the soundest sleep he’d ever had.

 

He was completely dumbfounded when he woke, and saw that it was three in the afternoon. Even if his brother was still furious at him, he  _never_ would have let him sleep this late. He dragged himself out of bed, pushed his thankfully small hangover to the back of his mind, and cautiously approached the door of the bedroom that his brother shared with Edge.

 

He knocked, and got absolutely zero response. He waited a few moments, then knocked again, louder. “Sans..?” he hesitantly called.

 

Again, no response. He came to the conclusion that his brother was not in his room, and was about to go look for him elsewhere, but something stopped him. A small sound from beyond the door, barely audible, but it caught his attention. He knocked again. “Black? Edge? Are you in there?” Yet again, he was left empty-handed in the response department. He hesitated, then spoke again. “I’m coming in, okay?”

 

After being met only with silence, he turned the door knob, quite surprised to find it unlocked, then pushed the door open. He was immediately coughing on the air, beyond confused, but once he realized that he was suffocating in a thick cloud of secondhand smoke, he spotted the other interesting sights the room had to offer.

 

There were many,  _many_ bottles of an impressive variety of alcoholic beverages completely empty and scattered around the room, the largest of which was still on the bed. And also on the bed, was his brother. However, it was almost impossible to see him, with how tightly Edge was curled around him. At first Slim was taken aback to see them being so affectionate, even though they were openly in a relationship and clearly close, but this quickly evaporated when he remembered everything else he had just discovered. He approached the two skeletons, and found them to be completely passed out, drool leaking from their mouths and to Slim’s horror, stains of purple and red magic running down each monster’s cheeks. Teartracks.

 

Throat swelling shut, he reached out and thumbed at the magic stains on his brother’s cheek, and got no reaction. He was clearly still alive, but from the looks of it, was quite near having drank himself to death. Slim wasn’t even angry that his impressive weed stash was probably empty now thanks the the obvious thievery that had taken place; all he had room to think about was how…  _miserable_  his brother looked.

 

He ran out of the room, panicking, but was forced to stop and take a breath when a disgruntled Red stumbled out of his room and blinked at him. “Wh-”

 

“Come here,” Slim choked.

 

Red did, and after examining what Slim had just discovered, hugged him. Slim flinched in surprise, but soon accepted, engulfing the smaller skeleton in his arms and allowing him to cry silently into his sternum. His own tears soon spilled over, soaking into the furry hood of Red’s jacket once they had dripped down his face.

 

When they parted, they took a deep breath, and closed the door to the room. “W… What should we do..?” Red murmured weakly.

 

Slim exhaled heavily. “Let them sleep, I guess.”

 

He looked down the hall to find that Rus and Blue’s bedroom door was open as well, so he walked over and peered inside to see Comic and Stretch leaning into each other, sniffling, as they stared at their brothers, who were in a suspiciously similar situation that Edge and Black had been. The two skeletons turned around when the door squeaked as Slim pushed it open, hastily wiping away their tears. Slim had been surprised to see Edge and Black in such a state, yes, but  _Blue and Rus_? That was even more strange.

 

Red joined them. “So… guess they took ‘needing more time’ to heart, huh?” He laughed weakly, but the sound soon died and they were left in silence.

 

For the rest of the day, everything in the house felt tense, as if the slightest wrong move from any of them could have it tearing apart at the seams and crumbling to the ground around them. Slim was up all night, quietly discussing the issue with his barbeque sauce. It was funny. He could talk out loud or only in his head, and his condiment still responded. Not in any auditory manner, of course, but more of an… intuitive one. His Soul fluttered when he shed a tear and got an immediate surge of sympathy and love through his entire body. He could get used to this feeling.

 

But… was it worth his brother’s mental health..?

 

He didn’t have much time to ruminate on it. When sunlight finally started to leak through his window around the ragtag curtains he had set up, he was out, his fatigue finally catching up with him. Five hours later, he was woken up by a frantic knocking on his door. Surprised, he fell out of bed - literally - then dragged himself to his door and gripped onto the doorknob in order to haul himself to his feet before opening it.

 

Stretch was before him, looking distraught. “Y-You need to come downstairs!”

 

“W-” Slim didn’t get to finish, and Stretch took care of it for him, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him down the stairs.

 

The sight he was greeted with alarmed him greatly. Black, Edge, Rus, and Blue were before the front door, all equipped with a suitcase. “Are you moving out??” Slim spluttered. He honestly wouldn’t have been that surprised at this point.

 

Rus weakly shook his head. “No. Well, not permanently, anyway. We just… need time away.”

 

Blue nodded. “We’re sorry.” The Swap Sans looked sadder than Slim had ever seen him. “We... don’t know how long we’ll be.”

 

“Please don’t try to look for us,” Black sighed.

 

“We’re leaving our phones here, so any texts or calls will be pointless,” Edge muttered.

 

Slim tried to talk, but his jaw was seemingly locked shut. “Goodbye,” Black whispered, tired purple eyelights directed at him as he spoke.

 

The door opened, closed, and then they were gone.

 

Slim was again reminded of how many times he’d told himself love could only end in hurt. Perhaps their brothers were right after all?


	5. Acceptance

Comic was convinced that this was hell.  _Two weeks_ without a single word of communication from his brother. He’d never gone this long without talking to Rus, and probably would have gone insane if not for his ketchup. They kept him afloat, flooding him with encouragement and comfort at every chance they got.

 

But finally, fifteen days after leaving, the four missing skeletons returned, and didn’t say a single word before sweeping their brothers into crushing hugs. Comic grunted around his sudden mouthful of Rus’ scarf, but gathered himself quickly and returned the embrace. Rus pulled away, but only far enough to cover his skull in kisses.

 

“B-Bro?” He managed to squeak out.

 

Rus looked at him, and while his eyelights were mournful, there were no traces of anger or defeat in them. “Sans.” He took a deep breath. “I am  _so_ sorry.”

 

“As am I,” Blue chipped in, stepping away from his own hug with Stretch.

 

As was seemingly becoming the norm, they sat themselves in the living room, the older brothers on one side of the room with the younger ones opposite to and facing them. They took turns apologizing for everything they had said, the way they had acted, and the general lack of support.

 

Red butted in at this point. “You mean-”

 

“Yes,” Edge confirmed.

 

“If you are truly happy with your condiments,” Blue sighed, smiling, “Then we have no right to judge you for it. We did a lot of thinking during our little vacation, and I can personally say that I’m shocked at my own actions.” He chuckled. “I mean really,  _I’m_ the one always preaching about love being precious in all its forms! Gah.”

 

Black nodded in agreement. “Your happiness is very important, to all of us. So, if this is what makes you happy - which it clearly is - then we will fully support you in the pursuit of it.”

 

Red was the first to break down crying, though the tears and shuddering sobs were clearly stemmed from relief. Slim was next, then Comic and Stretch. They blubbered like absolute idiots, and their brothers slid from their seats in order to comfort them. Comic sniffled into his brother’s shoulder, breathing in his sweet, familiar scent and allowing the feeling to settle in his Soul.

 

When everyone had managed to calm down, Edge clapped his hands once, smiling and blinking away the tears in his sockets. “So! As should have happened as soon as you told us of your new relationships, we’re going to be taking you all out to dinner in celebration.”

 

Now this was more like it.

 

\---

 

The four condiment lovers grabbed a new, unopened bottle of their significant others, then happily set out. There was a place in the Capital that was quite possibly the only establishment able to satisfy all eight of them. It was nice, with good quality food and service, but it had a homey feel, so the more insecure of them wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. They served foods sweet enough to please Stretch, foods strange enough to leave Slim contented, foods unhealthy enough to appease Red, foods large enough to fill Comic up, and foods quote unquote ‘normal’ enough for everyone else.

 

They arrived, and were seated. “Why don’t you pick out an appetizer, Papy?” Blue offered with a smile.

 

Stretch returned the expression. “Don’t mind if I do.” He had the menu practically memorized at that point, so the decision was easy enough.

 

They made their order, and the conversation was amazingly normal. “So… what should we call them?” Rus asked.

 

Stretch cocked his head. “Hm?”

 

“What I mean is- do they have names or something? Or do we just call them ‘the ketchup’, ‘the mustard’...”

 

Comic hummed. “Well, I’ve just been calling them ‘Ketchup’ in my head, as a name rather than a label.”

 

Red nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been calling mine Mustard.”

 

Edge breathed out in amusement. “Alright. Well, hi then, Mustard.”

 

As expected, the condiment didn’t reply, but nobody seemed bothered by that.

 

Stretch suddenly laughed, and explained when everyone raised a brow at him. “ _Honeyyy_ ,  _I’m_   _home_ ~~~”

 

Slim nearly spit his drink out, while everyone else burst out laughing. Stretch felt the bubbling of Honey’s laughter in his Soul before his own surfaced, and the feeling was good enough to allow Red to finish the last of the dip he’d ordered.

 

\---

 

Red hadn’t even properly detached his mouthful of food from the burger he had ordered before he was choking on it at an interesting remark from Stretch.

 

“So… we uh… h-had our first time a few nights ago…”

 

Blue made a face. “You mean…” He shook the expression away. “Ah, I’m sorry. I’m happy for you, Papy. Guess I just didn’t think of that before.”

 

Rus hesitated before speaking. “How uh… how exactly does that work?”

 

Stretch blushed. “I guess it’s a mystery.”

 

Red could think of a few ways, and his face warmed at the thought of getting intimate with Mustard. He wasn’t quite ready yet, and gave the condiment a sheepish smile when he felt of ping of their own flusterment in his Soul.

 

He was secretly the biggest virgin at the table, but nobody needed to know that.

 

\---

 

Slim set Barbeque down after taking a sip of them at a question from his brother. “So… are you just… dating every single drop of barbeque sauce that exists?”

 

Slim held up a hand. “We have actually discussed this already.” He coughed once, more for dramatic effect than anything else. “Blue, Rus, you are in a committed relationship, correct?”

 

The two nodded, and Rus placed a light kiss to Blue’s temple, eliciting a giggle from the other skeleton.

 

“Great. And you’d love each other no matter what you looked like, right?”

 

“Of course!”

 

Slim smiled. “So, it’s the same with us. We love them, no matter what sort of bottle they’re in, or where they were made. If they’re with us, they’re  _with_ us.”

 

Everyone nodded in their understanding, but then Black gasped, eyes lighting up. Once he realized what he’d done, he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “So… I have an idea.”

 

“Shoot,” Red said, trying very hard to pick all of the crumbs off of his plate without making a scene of it.

 

“What if you got like… special bottles? For your condiments?” Black proposed. “So, whenever you got more of them, you could just refill that specific bottle, and they’d still look the same every time. You could even style them to their preferences, so it’s clear they’re not just  _any_ condiment!”

 

Slim wasn’t sure, but the happiness Barbeque communicated to him changed his mind pretty quickly. “That’s a great idea, bro.”

 

He turned to his lover, smiling. “Things are gonna be alright.”

 

Everyone at the table smiled, and Blue raised his drink. “To finding your Soulmate.”

 

Everyone followed in Blue’s footsteps, and they clinked their glasses together. “Yes,” Slim confirmed. “To finding your Soulmate, Soul or no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...April Fools'!


End file.
